A Fear of Stars
by Cecilia Green
Summary: Post-Canon. While Kylo Ren is conflicted about what side of this war he should be on, he finds himself developing feelings for someone who may be his downfall. Elsewhere, Finn and Poe decide where their relationship stands as they take on missions on the behalf of the Resistance. Rey continues her Jedi training in preparation for a war that she never agreed to fight.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Haven't posted anything in a while, but this is me trying to get my creative juices flowing again. First ever Star Wars fic, so please comment and tell me what you think! Thank you.**

* * *

"Sir, we can't stay here much longer!" yelled the pilot.

"Can you see him?" Hux had to shout at the pilot over the roaring of the shuttle in the chaotic atmosphere. Plumes of fire and smoke spat angrily from the planet's surface. Just then, a pillar of smoke blew upwards under the carrier, jerking the craft upwards. The general grasped the seat of the pilot's chair, and the Stormtrooper at the helm gripped the controls tightly.

"Negative, sir!" he yelled. "The smoke is too thick! I could try thermal mapping – maybe pick up a heat signature from him–"

"The whole bloody _planet_ is on fire!" Hux interrupted, his tone savagely frustrated. Another gust of burning air blew into the shuttle, making it jerk to the side. There was a heavy _crack_ from the hull as a tree snapped against the ship. The small group of troopers that accompanied him on the craft grasped their blasters nervously.

"Sir, we need to leave, and we need to leave now!" the pilot shouted.

Hux tried to keep his voice level as he answered, "No. Supreme Leader Snoke was clear – we do not leave without Kylo Ren."

"Well, we either need to leave or land, because if we remain at this altitude, then this shuttle will crash." No sooner did the words leave the trooper's mouth than the craft gave a violent shudder as a column of fire jutted out of the planet's surface, catching it from underneath. The lights flickered, and for a moment, all Hux could see was the burning ruin of Starkiller from out the window. Trees were burning like giant torches. Snow sublimated into water vapor straight from the planet's surface, and the ground was cracked and rumbling as the energy of the entire sun fought to break free of its earthen casing. Landing was out of the question; if they did, the craft would never make it off the ground again.

A second later, the lights came back on. " _Sir!_ " the trooper cried urgently. The general heard fear in his voice. Pure, undiluted, desperate fear.

His mind raced. _Oh, hell,_ he thought as he strode to the arms rack decisively, tearing his overcoat from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. "Lower me to the planet's surface and then take the ship to a safe altitude," he ordered, picking a laser rifle from the rack. "Once I call for you, come down, take me and Ren aboard the ship, and join the rest of the fleet."

"Sir, you aren't going down there, are you?" the pilot asked in bewilderment. "There's no way you're going to find him in time!"

Hux didn't reply, but walked onto the boarding pad, rifle gripped tightly. "Do not leave without us," he snapped before nodding at the trooper closest to the control panel. After a brief hesitation, he punched in the correct code, and immediately, Hux heard a groan as the platform detached from the rest of the ship.

As soon as it began its descent, lowered by sturdy cables connected to the ship, Hux felt a tinge of regret about his decision. Wind whipped his face – scorching hot one second and freezing cold the next. Within seconds, the general's lungs burned from smoke inhalation, and his eyes began to sting and water. He knew going down to look for Ren himself was a hare-brained idea, but the rational part of his mind was overpowered the part that feared whatever punishment would await him, should he disobey Snoke's direct orders.

The platform descended to the planet's surface quickly, and Hux had to crouch close to the floor to keep from falling off. Soon enough, the platform slammed onto the snowy ground with enough force to make the general's teeth rattle. He wasted no time standing up and jumping off of the large, metal board. His boots landed in the snow softly, and he held his rifle at the ready. The moment he hit the ground, the platform retreated back to the ship, the cables whirring at an urgent pitch. Hux heard the metallic _clank_ of the platform reattaching to the vessel, followed by the drone of the ship flying away.

The general cursed to himself, gripping his weapon tightly. He'd never actually fired a rifle physically, but it was always his preferred weapon whenever he was in the combat simulations. Experimentally, he pulled back on the bolt and switched the safety off. Just as in the simulators, Hux felt the rifle hum to life, a bright red light along the forestock glowing to life, signaling that the weapon was ready to fire. He exhaled, looked ahead, and started into the wood, jogging hurriedly.

"Ren!" he called out. He knew it was futile – he couldn't hear anything above the roar of the flames engulfing the dying planet. On the off chance that Kylo Ren was able to hear his calls, it was unlikely that Hux would be able to hear his reply. Still, the general cried out Ren's name, his voice ragged and gravelly from the smoke clouding his throat.

"Ren! Ren, where are you?" he yelled. The whine of the broken trees was the only answer he got. _Damn it_ , Hux thought, looking around. It again occurred to Hux how illogical this idea was. But he couldn't trust a handful of Stormtroopers to retrieve Ren. This was his responsibility, and if anything wrong were to happen, then Hux would be the one to suffer.

The general called Ren's name again. He couldn't have gotten too far from the main base…he had to be close by…

Hux finally got his sign when he noticed a spatter of red on the snowy ground. Blood – fresh. It decorated the frost in droplets scattered a few inches apart. The red spray was accompanied by deep and wild prints in the snow – evidence of a fight, no doubt. As Hux looked around, he noticed other clues. Some of the trees around him had fallen, but not due to being burned as a whole. These trees had been sliced clean through with something very hot and very sharp. Lightsabers.

Hux turned his gaze back to the ground. He was no tracker, but the footprints and blood splatters lead a clear path deeper into the forest. Holding his rifle close, he continued forward. He was only on the trail for a minute when he heard a scuffling sound to his right. Hux whipped around, resting the butt of the rifle onto his shoulder in one fluid, instinctive motion. He stayed completely still, vision perfectly lined with the barrel of the gun, waiting for some unknown adversary to spring out of the woods and attack him.

A few long seconds passed before Hux called out, "Ren?"

In response, the general heard a loud, pained groan.

Hux was rushing towards the source of the noise in a heartbeat. Soon, he broke through the snow-coated thicket to find himself in a small clearing. On the far side of the clearing was a large black shape, struggling to get itself off the ground. "Ren!"

The lump made a sound like an unintelligible groan, and tried again to rise to its feet, only to slump back into the bloody snow. As Hux neared the lump, he was able to discern Ren's figure from the endless cascades of burnt black fabric.

Kylo Ren was lying on his side, facing away from the general. He groaned once more and wrestled to get up on all fours. It was then that Hux caught side of his face, and the jagged, angry slash mark that split it in two. _Oh, hell…_

"Ren," he said, rushing to the Force-user's side. He knelt down, lowering his rifle. "Ren, what happened?" The knight didn't answer, but with a moan of pain, he managed to rise to a kneeling position. It was then that Hux noticed the bleeding wound in his side and the mess of scorched fabric and flesh on both his shoulders. He placed a hand on Ren's back. It was meant to be reassuring, but the knight stiffened at his touch. "Don't try to get up," Hux instructed. "Just wait for–"

Hux didn't get the opportunity to finish his sentence. Ren shoved the general to the side. "The girl… I need to find the girl…" he growled, climbing to his feet. His limbs quivered, and a few drops of blood fell into the snow from his wounded side.

Hux quickly recovered from his surprise and stood up, grabbing hold of Ren's arm. "Are you insane?" he hissed. "The girl is probably long gone by now. The planet is dying. We need to get out of here, now."

"With my lightsaber… _my lightsaber…_ " the knight muttered deliriously. Ren wrenched his arm from Hux's grasp, took a shaking step forward, and fell to his knees immediately. Hux was suddenly glad that he hadn't brought any troopers with him. Being seen with Kylo Ren like this would have been embarrassing for them both.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. How could he get Ren aboard the ship in this state. "Ren, listen to me," he started. "I need you to cooperate. I'm going to call the ship to come get us. We need to leave." He realized that Ren wasn't listening to him. The knight had again gotten to his feet, and was taking shaking step towards the edge of the clearing.

With an exasperated gasp, Hux walked over and position himself in front of Ren. Before he could get a word out, the knight responded by shoving him out of the way with surprising force. Hux stumbled back a few steps and frowned. There was no way he would be able to get Ren on the ship in that state. It would have been easier if he was just comatose.

Hux's eyes brightened. _Wait…_ he thought. The general looked around quickly, then turned his gaze back towards the injured Force-user.

"Ren!" he called out. For whatever reason, the knight chose then to respond to Hux. He turned his head just in time to see the butt of Hux's rifle come flying towards his face before it cracked him across the skull.

He fell down immediately, and this time, didn't try to get back up. Hux sighed in relief before bringing out his comm. "This is Hux to the shuttle. Zero in on my signal. I found Kylo Ren; we are ready for pick-up."

The response came after a brief cloud of static emitted from the device. "Roger that, General. We're on our way."

It didn't take long for the shuttle to find them. As the craft hovered noisily above the pair's heads and the platform at the base of the ship was lowered from its cables, Hux cast another glance at the unconscious lump splayed out in the snow. He thought of Leader Snoke, and the tasks that lay ahead.

Amidst the chaos of the dying planet, as Stormtroopers marched off of the platform carrying a stretcher, General Hux felt the cold fingers of dread claw their way into his chest.

* * *

When Kylo Ren awoke, his first sensation was that of warmth. Then, he noticed that he was lying in a bed, with a blanket pulled over his body. He next became aware of a burning sensation across his torso. His shoulders and side itched furiously, and every breath caused an arc of pain to shoot through him. He let out an involuntary groan.

"Oh, Ren. You're awake," a voice spoke up.

Ren's breath halted. He could recognize Hux's sneering, condescending tone anywhere. With nothing short of extreme reluctance, he turned his head to the right and saw the general sitting in a chair a few meters away.

They were in a very small medbay. The room barely had enough room for the two of them. The knight struggled to remember the events that unfolded before he lost consciousness, but his mind was clouded and unfocused. With difficulty, he managed to bring himself to a sitting position. The blanket fell away from his chest, revealing a long roll of bandages swathed around his wounds. His robes had been removed, and Ren wore only his pants under the rest of the blankets.

Ren frowned and addressed the general. "Hux." He had meant to sound curt and assertive, but Ren feared that in his injured state, his voice sounded more weak and raspy than anything else. "Where am I?" he asked.

Hux took a deep breath and glanced to the side. "A small carrier ship, on our way to the _Finalizer_. You'll have to forgive the engineers – couldn't fit a bacta tank onboard. It'll be a while before you can receive the proper treatment for your wounds," he replied.

Ren closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. "What happened?"

At this, Hux stood up and crossed his arms, taking long, dramatic steps towards the injured knight. "I was rather hoping you could tell me, Ren. Last I saw you, you were searching the base for our escaped prisoner – you know, the helpless little scavenger girl?" He paused to look at Ren pointedly. Ren met his gaze with resolution. After a brief second, the general continued, "You were juvenile and brooding as ever, but very much alive. However, not ten minutes later, I find you half-dead and delirious in the snow. So, perhaps you can tell me _exactly what happened._ "

When Hux finished speaking, his lips were tight with anger, his eyes blazing. It was rare that he let his temper slip in front of others, and it took Ren completely off guard. He tried to keep his face expressionless, and he said nothing in reply – not only because speaking right then would have caused him a great deal of discomfort, but also because he began to feel embarrassment burning at his ears.

Fortunately for him, Hux didn't seem to notice. He only rolled his eyes and sighed at Ren's silence. "No? Okay then," he said. "Let us see if we can piece this together."

Hux stepped closer to the knight until he was looming over him. Ren didn't like the feeling of Hux standing above him, but he felt that if he tried to stand up, he might lose consciousness again. Hux scanned him with his green eyes before speaking again. "The burns on your shoulders – lightsaber wounds, I presume?"

Ren hesitated, but nodded. "The girl was accompanied by our renegade Stormtrooper. He had a lightsaber with him when I found them."

Hux raised an eyebrow. "Was this before or after you sustained the blaster wound to your side?" he inquired.

"Not blaster," Ren corrected him. "Bowcaster. The Wookie shot me." He remembered vividly Chewbacca's cry as Han Solo fell off the narrow bridge. After that, the beam of red plasma shot toward Kylo Ren too quickly for him to deflect. He grimaced as his side throbbed. "And that was before I fought the girl."

"Solo's Wookie? Now that _is_ interesting," Hux remarked. He turned away from the knight and began taking slow steps around the room. "The medic found some unusual bruising around the wound. Were you in a fistfight after you got shot?" he asked.

Ren vaguely remembered beating his own side during his duel with the turncoat. After slaying his father, he had felt more conflicted than ever. He needed to get the pain flowing, get himself angry, focused. "Something like that," he grunted.

" _Hmph._ " The general glanced over in Ren's direction. He was still sitting up, though it clearly pained him. Sweat had begun to bead on his brow. After a moment, Hux spoke, "Well, suffice to say you utterly failed in your mission. Supreme Leader Snoke is most displeased with the both of us." He raised an eyebrow. "He has requested your presence immediately. He wishes for you to complete your training so that, next time you face this girl, perhaps you will do so without getting beaten to a bloody pulp."

That stung. Ren scowled at the comment. Before he could retort, Hux continued, "Once we reach the _Finalizer,_ we'll throw you in a tank and head to Snoke straightaway. The girl will find Luke Skywalker before long. We've not a moment to lose."

With that said, Hux started towards the door to the medbay. He paused right outside of the motion sensor's range and gave one last look at the injured knight. "Is there anything else I should know before returning to the bridge?" he asked.

Ren was silent for a moment, staring at the general with black, solemn eyes. Hux sighed and made a move to leave. Before he could, Ren spoke. "I killed him," he said.

The general made an impatient noise. "You've killed a great many people, Ren. You'll have to be a bit more specific."

"Han Solo. I killed him. That's why the Wookie shot me."

Hux froze, his gaze hardening. "And what?" he hissed. Ren didn't respond. "You feel guilty?" Again, he was answered with silence. The general turned around and marched over so that he was again standing over Ren's cot. His green eyes were burning with an expression that Ren could not identify. Whatever it was, it unnerved him.

The general spoke. "If you're having any second thoughts," he began, "any lingering doubts that you are on the right side of this conflict, you'd best keep them to yourself. You know what Snoke does to infidels. You know what he's capable of."

When Ren replied, his voice was surprisingly soft. "Since when have you ever been concerned for me?" he asked.

At this, Hux scoffed. "I'm concerned for the both of us," he said. "If you haven't noticed, we're in this mess together. It's bad enough that I have to patch you up after this disaster; I'd rather not have to hose you off the walls."

When the knight did not respond, Hux snorted and turned to face the door again. "You'll be put in stasis soon, to help you heal faster," he said. "Perhaps, in your suspended state, you could take the time to reevaluate where your loyalties lie." Then, the general exited the room, leaving Ren alone.

The knight slumped back down on his cot. Everything hurt – his chest, his head, his side, his shoulders… There wasn't an inch of his body that didn't ache from his ordeal. Before drifting into a fitful sleep, Ren couldn't help but think of how much worse things were going to get.


	2. Chapter 2

Waiting was the worst part.

Poe Dameron hadn't expected this to be true. When Poe first saw Chewbacca carrying a comatose Finn out of the _Millennium Falcon_ after the battle, a jagged slice cutting up his back, he had thought that would be the worst part. Poe changed his mind when he observed the surgery done on the unconscious Stormtrooper. The doctors had carved into his flesh like he was a dead animal. They had ripped out his spine, which at that point more closely resembled a melted candlestick, and laid it out on a shiny metal table, splattering it with blood and some strings of flesh that stubbornly clung to the bone. As they began grafting in segments of prosthetic vertebrae to the columns in his neck and waist, Poe had thought to himself, _nothing can be more painful than this_.

But no. Even after witnessing all that, nothing came even close the suffering Poe endured while watching Finn sleep. With any other challenge, Poe loved uncertainty. He relished in the idea of not knowing the outcome of something. It made everything an adventure, something exciting and dangerous. But not with Finn. With Finn, something was different. With Finn, Poe longed for an absolute – that Finn would open his eyes and be okay. The fact that he would _probably_ wake up and would _probably_ be able to walk again did nothing to help. He owed his life to that Stormtrooper, and every day, he wondered to himself whether or not he'd ever be able to thank him again.

Of course, he had lost friends before. With his job, it was an inevitability. The difference was that, when somebody died, everyone felt it. Everyone mourned and paid their respects and had their moments of silence. But Finn wasn't dead, so nobody mourned. It wasn't like there would be much of a difference, anyway. Even if there had been some sort of complication with Finn's surgery, and he had died in his coma, nobody on that base would have felt it. Han was dead, and Rey was where no communicator could possibly reach her. Poe would be alone in his loss for weeks.

He tried not to let his comrades see how much it bothered him. When his strike team was called out to a mission, Poe would always carry it through efficiently and effectively. He was, after all, the best pilot in the Resistance.

But he couldn't stop the people from staring when he would sit beside the comatose Stormtrooper for hours, or when he began growing a scruff because shaving didn't seem important anymore. He couldn't stop the whispers or the odd glances or the words filled with pity.

Poe didn't want anybody's sympathy. He just wanted Finn to wake up, and he wanted to be there when he did.

That was why, when he received General Organa's summons to the command center of the base, he felt a tinge on anxiety sneak into his chest.

He arrived in his flight uniform, and as the doors of the elevator closed behind him, Poe had to squint as his eyes adjusted to the dark. In the medbay, the bacta tanks emitted a bluish-green glow that made the area far brighter than any other sector on the base. By comparison, the command center was as dark as a moonless night.

The general was standing by a computer with one of the superior officers when Poe caught sight of her. He walked over and cleared his throat. "You asked for me, General?" he said.

Organa looked up and offered a smile. "Yes, Commander Dameron. Thank you for coming." She stepped forward and motioned for the officer to leave, which he did promptly. "How are you?" she asked.

"I'm good, General. Thank you," Poe replied.

In response, the general raised an eyebrow. "Are you?" she said softly. "You've been spending quite a bit of time in the medbay. Are you feeling unwell?"

Poe hoped it was too dark for the commander to see his face flush. "No, General," he said.

The general nodded, though she looked skeptical. She took a few slow steps toward the pilot, her lips pursed. After a pause, she spoke. "My brother told me of an old Jedi philosophy," she said. "Ages ago, Jedi were forbidden to make attachments or have possessions. They believed it would lead to jealousy."

Poe frowned. "With respect, General," he said, "I'm no Jedi."

"Nor am I," she responded. "Luke never approved of that custom. We both agree that our loved ones can be a source of strength in times of struggle. But you cannot deny that they can also be a source of weakness."

The pilot glanced away nervously and swallowed. "Pardon me, General, but why am I here?" he asked.

"You've been spending every waking moment with Finn for the past several weeks. You've been distracted, unfocused." It wasn't a question.

Poe started. "Ma'am, each of my missions since the attack on Starkiller Base have been a success. I haven't lost a single man," he said. The pilot tried to keep his tone level, but he feared he sounded defensive.

"That being said, you cannot keep on like this, Commander. If you stay fixated on this Stormtrooper, then sooner or later, it will affect your performance in the field," the general insisted. "You need to let go. We can't afford to lose a pilot like you." She paused and sighed. "This is why I'm transferring you to our base in Cadinth."

" _Cadinth?_ " Poe exclaimed. He stammered, "But, General – I, I'm needed here–"

"I will decide where you are needed, Commander," Organa interrupted sharply. "When the Hosnian System was destroyed, we lost half of our major bases, as well as countless valuable allies. Our base on Cadinth is an important industrial center for the Republic. You'll be occupying the planet for security and communication purposes."

Poe exhaled sharply, his frown deepening. "General, please…"

"Commander Dameron, listen to me," she said. Her tone softened as she spoke. "I may be a general, but I'm also a mother, and – very recently – a widow. I know loss, and I understand what you must be feeling right now." She took a few steps closer to the pilot and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. Poe looked down and bit his lip. "But trust that it's for the best," the general finished.

The pilot didn't look up, but gave a slight nod. "Is there anything else, General?" He was surprised at how small his voice was.

Organa let her hand slip from his shoulder. She sighed. "You can take one of your crewmates with you. I'll need to know who by noon tomorrow." She paused, expecting a response from the pilot. Receiving none, she sighed again. "You are dismissed, Commander," she said.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am," Poe said hoarsely before turning around and starting briskly towards the elevator. He was determined not to let anyone see the wetness in his eyes.

When he got back to his quarters, Poe felt like his blood was boiling. The door automatically closed behind him. Once the pilot heard the _thud_ of the heavy metal sealing him in the room, he kicked his bedpost with enough force for the whole cot to slide a few inches. " _Dammit!_ " he hissed. He grunted and began pacing around the room. He was going to Cadinth? _Cadinth?_ The thought seemed absurd. Sure, it would hardly be his first time off the planet. His role in the Resistance required Poe to venture all over the galaxy. But this wasn't a simple retrieval mission. He'd be stationed there _indefinitely_ – away from his friends, his crew, and….and Finn.

Poe shook his head. It was too damn hot in there. He quickly shed his vest and jumpsuit, which he hadn't noticed until then were lightly damp with sweat. He dropped them on the floor and went do his dresser. Before opening it, he paused and glanced over to his left. His jacket was sagging on a hanger by his bed. When Finn was transported to the medbay, they almost threw out the jacket with the rest of his clothes. Poe had managed to stop the transport while it was en route to the incinerator and retrieve the jacket. Weeks later, he still hadn't sewn up the burnt slice that nearly split the coat in two.

With a slow breath, Poe turned back to his wardrobe. Soon enough, he was dressed in a simple tunic and brown pants. The change in clothes did little to soothe the heat he felt rising in his chest and neck. Poe was angry. Irrationally so – he knew that, of course, but it didn't seem to matter to him right then. He could possibly focus on packing or planning for his transfer. Poe ran a tired hand through his hair. He had roughly 18 hours before he had to report to the general about his decision. That was more than enough time to visit Finn.

The walk across base seemed to take longer than usual, but once Poe entered the medbay, he barely remembered the long walk over.

The medbay was a decently-sized sector of the Resistance base. It was composed of five main divisions: the bacta chamber, the surgery ward, the quarantine zone, the therapy station, and the recovery room. Each division had its own particular arrangement. For instance, the bacta chamber resembled a large field where rows upon rows of tanks were lined up like stalks in a cornfield, while the surgery ward was comprised of a series of halls and corridors, with numerous surgical rooms lining the walls. To those unfamiliar with the layout, the medbay was a complicated and difficult sector to navigate. Fortunately for Poe, he'd spent a lot of time in the medbay.

He found his way to the recovery room quickly. Upon entering, his breath caught in his throat. The unconscious Stormtrooper was lying in a cot on the far side of the room. Every time he saw Finn lying motionless in his bed, Poe felt as if his lungs had forgotten how to take in oxygen.

It wasn't a particularly disturbing sight. Not like most other people in the recovery room. It was just shocking. Finn didn't need any breathing apparatus or life support system. He wasn't dripping goo from the bacta tanks, nor was he bandaged from head to toe. As a matter of fact, the only wound Finn had that was visible from the front was the large slash of knotted flesh on his right shoulder, and even that was covered by his hospital gown.

Besides that, Finn looked quiet and serene, as if he was sleeping and would open his eyes at any moment. Except he hadn't done so in weeks.

Poe walked over and took a seat next to Finn, twining his fingers together and leaning forward in the chair so that his elbows rested on his thighs. After a few moments, he reached out and grasped Finn by the arm, bowing his head ever so slightly. "I haven't given up on you," he murmured.

The Stormtrooper gave no reply.

* * *

Poe woke up to the sound of shifting sheets. He was still in the medbay, and was leaning back in his seat, his head angled to his chest. Quickly, the pilot leaned forward in his chair and groaned as his muscles stretched uncomfortably. How long had he been asleep in that position?

Breathing deeply, Poe looked around the recovery room. Everything appeared to be in the same place that they had been in before. And yet, he was sure that he had heard something…

The rustling sound started again, followed by a tired groan. Poe whipped his head around to see Finn shifting in his cot.

Without wasting a second, the pilot scooted to the edge of his chair and straightened his back attentively. He laid a cautious hand on Finn's arm and swallowed audibly. "Finn?" he asked hesitantly.

The Stormtrooper stirred. "Poe?" he groaned. His voice was dry and hoarse.

Poe's heart leapt, and he immediately stood up. His chair scraped the floor as it was pushed backward. "Oh my god, buddy! You're – you're awake! I can't believe it," he said, speaking too quickly.

Finn winced, as if the noise caused him pain. His eyebrows knitted together. He still hadn't opened his eyes. "What's wrong with my legs?" he rasped.

Suddenly, Poe felt very, very cold. "Can you feel them?" he asked. His voice trembled.

"Kind of. It's weird. Where's Rey?"

The cold feeling in Poe's chest hardened until it was like a block of ice. Of course. Rey.

Poe didn't let his disappointment reach his voice. "Rey's fine," he assured him.

It was then that Finn's eyelids fluttered open, only to squint and tear up immediately. "It's so bright in here," he said. "Where are we?"

"You're in the medical station at the Resistance base. Back on D'Qar."

Finn turned his head so that he was looking at the Resistance pilot. Poe suddenly became extremely aware of how disgruntled he must look. He hadn't showered in several days, and his hair was in complete disarray. He rubbed the scruff on his chin consciously.

Finn noticed the movement, and narrowed his eyes in confusion. "You're growing a beard," he remarked. As soon as the words left the Stormtrooper's mouth, a look of realization dawned on his face. "How…how long have I been unconscious?" he asked.

Poe's heart began to beat faster. "Finn…"

" _How long,_ Poe?"

The pilot hesitated for a beat. "About three and a half weeks."

"Three and a – _what?_ " The Stormtrooper sat up quickly and threw the blankets off his body. "Help me up!" he demanded.

Poe stepped back a bit and held his hands up, motioning for Finn to get back down. "Slow down," he said. "You still need to rest. Finn – stop–"

The Stormtrooper had swung his legs off the cot and stood up, only to collapse on the spot. "What the hell…" he muttered. His eyes were wide with bewilderment. "What's wrong with my legs…"

Poe was standing over him within a second, helping him to his feet. "Will you please slow down? You need to get back into bed." The pilot turned and shouted behind him, "Doctor! I need a doctor in here!"

Leaning on Poe for support, Finn managed to struggle to his feet. "I got this…I got this…" he was grumbling to himself.

After much coaxing from the pilot, Finn begrudgingly sat back down on his cot. Some officials from the medical staff entered the room soon after, accompanied by an array of tests and charts.

It took a half hour for the staff and Poe to explain everything that happened since the attack on Starkiller base. It took five minutes for Finn to relearn how to walk, and another 15 minutes after that for Finn to convince them that he was well enough to leave the medbay. But after precisely one hour and eight minutes, Finn had traded his hospital gown for pajama pants and a T-shirt and was standing in Poe's quarters, with the pilot himself sitting on his bed.

Finn had taken off his shirt and was staring at the reflection of his back in the mirror. A long, ropey scar ran down the length of his spine. The flesh around the gash was dark and puckered, and Poe found himself struggling to tear his eyes away from it.

Finn seemed to be feeling the same. "That is so weird…" he breathed. He managed to bend his arm around so that he could lightly trace the bottom of the scar with his fingertips.

"How does it feel?" Poe asked. "Does it hurt?"

"Not exactly," Finn answered. "I can kind of feel pressure when something touches me, and my back aches. I guess the main difference is that my legs feel…heavier."

"Heavier?"

"Yeah." Finn grabbed his shirt off the floor and put it back on. "It's hard to explain." He shrugged and walked over, taking a seat next to Poe on the bed. "So, Rey's going to be a Jedi," he said. Poe nodded in response, and Finn scratched his head. "That's good. Good for her. I knew she was special."

Poe pursed his lips and leaned back, lying down on the mattress with his hand behind his head. Finn joined him and sighed. "So what's going to happen with us?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Poe said, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Starkiller base is gone, Rey's off doing whatever it is Jedi do… I'm just wondering what I'm supposed to be doing now. I mean, I've never _not_ been a Stormtrooper before. I don't think I can imagine just…staying here."

"But you're a part of the Resistance now," Poe said. "You're one of us. You've earned that much."

At that, Finn scoffed.

"What is it?" Poe asked, concerned.

"Come on, Poe. What's the Resistance going to do with me?" Finn asked. "I'm a cripple and a turncoat. I don't have a place here."

"That's not true," Poe objected.

"Then what am I going to do here? How can I possibly help?"

Poe was silent for a second. Then, a thought occurred to him. "You ever been to Cadinth?" he asked.


End file.
